Sunday, January 20, 2008

He said, She said: The Bedford Downs Affair

August 12, 2006

By Pat Litowitz and Lisa Micco
New Castle News


Welcome to race day, folks.

Let’s take a look at the toteboard as the Pennsylvania State Harness Racing Commission’s first-ever “No One Heard of Us Until Slots Came Along Classic” gets under way.

No Way Carmen, running out of the No. 1 slot, is the prohibitive favorite at 4-5 odds.

Running even is Something Fishy is Going On.

After stumbling early, Mike Veon’s Baby shows at 3-1.

Also taking the field are Gov. Rendell’s Appeal (6-1), Whatever Happened to Valley View (10-1), Anton’s Argument (15-1) and Fair Process (100-1).

Like Charlie Bucket in “Willie Wonka & the Chocolate Factory”, Carmen Shick and the backers of Bedford Downs continue to search for the elusive golden ticket — a harness racing license.

But this battle isn’t about harness racing; it’s all about the slots. Whoever holds the license taps into a fountain of riches.

Speaking of riches, let’s meet New Castle News staffers Pat Litowitz and Lisa Micco — two people who have no money, no class and no hope.

Join Pat and Lisa as they discuss “Even When You Win, You Lose” or “There’s Still Life in This Dead Horse.”


LITOWITZ: What was I thinking? No, really.

(OK, if you must know. The other day I was imagining Micco during her days as a cheerleader at Neshannock High School. I just laughed and laughed. But I digress.)

In athletics, the goal is to win. Work hard. Play fair. Give it your best. And the only performance-enhancing drug out there is a little blue pill that starts with a “V.”

At issue is a harness racing license and not the sport itself. Maybe that explains why our good friends at the Pennsylvania State Harness Racing Commission act as if they were professional wrestling promoters.

The harness racing license — which is worthless without the slots to back it up — gave the commission new-found power.

When Carmen Shick and Bedford Downs appeared on the scene, they messed up the grand plan.

MICCO: I think you have a cheerleader fetish that only a qualified licensed medical practitioner can attempt to treat.

But speaking of licenses ...

Hmmm, seems to me that the grand plan was to quietly slip the harness racing license to state Rep. Mike Veon’s camp without much fanfare and fuss. But when Shick showed up with his Bedford Downs presentation that literally blew the other off the track, it no longer became a matter of pushing Centaur through a few political paces. Instead, the powers-that-be were forced to take notice of Bedford Downs.

They expected Shick to be the wallflower at a debutante ball. Sure, he was invited to the soirée, probably more out of a societal obligation than a sincere gesture to see what he had to offer. But a funny thing happened on the way to the slots, Shick rocked the house.

LITOWITZ: Veon — the all-powerful Democrat from Beaver County — played an important role in the passage of slots legislation. In fact, one of the law’s stipulations was that western Pennsylvania would receive a slots license.

Translation: Mike, here’s your reward for helping out.

It was a foregone conclusion that Beaver County would be awarded the state’s last harness racing license. The county’s own newspaper said as much in the early days of the project.

Don’t underestimate what Shick accomplished during his presentation. He set the bar so high that Centaur couldn’t touch it.

But there was no way the powers-that-be would let Shick win. Yet, they couldn’t award the prize to Centaur because of the Shick Effect.

MICCO: The Shick Effect? Are we talking about a razor or a racetrack?

Well, someone’s been trying to shake Shick down. First, the New Castle News receives an anonymous letter from Florida, attempting to directly tie Shick to convicted Youngstown mobster Lenny Strollo. Those allegations were unfounded. Although, it’s interesting to note that a racing commission employee called The News to complain that we were prolonging its investigation.

However, the commission had no problem finding fault with Shick’s grandfather, Carmen Ambrosia. They feared Ambrosia “may have had” ties to organized crime figures from Youngstown. Again, the commission worried that giving Shick the license “would be inconsistent with the best interests of racing.”

(Yeah, there’s a stretch. Mobsters and racing.)

Seriously, if you’re going rattle a few skeletons in some closets, I’m sure a politician or two will fall out.

LITOWITZ: I had faith in the process until I heard this little tale.

Remember when the NAACP’s New Castle chapter had a rally for Shick in the middle of February?

My people tell me (stop laughing, I have “people”) that a harness racing commission official was livid about the rally. This person calls an NAACP official to say the event was pointless and that there was no way Shick could get the license.

Now fast-forward to late June. Gov. Rendell’s office files an appeal on behalf of the commission. Rendell wants to overturn the Commonwealth Court ruling that kept Shick in the race for the license while sending Centaur to the sidelines.

And if you think Veon is loyal to his Centaur friends, guess again. He was willing to strip the slots from the harness racing license.

The message to Bedford Downs backers is obvious: “You Don’t Have a Friend in Pennsylvania.”

MICCO (laughing hysterically): Your people? I can’t get past that. I need a moment.

LITOWITZ: Go ahead. Take your time. Seriously, I have people.

MICCO: Stop it! You’re killing me.

So anyway, the million dollar question is: Who do we have to bribe to get a racetrack around here? Wait, a million dollars isn’t enough.

(He Said/She Said is written by New Castle News staffers Lisa Micco, design editor, and Pat Litowitz, investigative reporter.)

No comments:

Post a Comment